The Saturday Six

One.

Source

Bob Hostetler is one of the funniest people I know. {And to be fair, I don't actually know him.} If you listen to BLT every week, you will recognize his name...because we quote him in the tweets of the week almost every single week. But for as funny as Bob can be...he also has one of the sweetest serious sides I've ever known. I so appreciated this blog post he wrote this week to celebrate his 37th wedding anniversary. Bob, thank you for giving a sappy newlywed like me hope that in another 35 1/2 years, I can still feel this way!!

Two.

You know those sugar wafer cookies? The kind that come in a pack of chocolate, vanilla and pink? {I assume the pink is supposed to be strawberry but it never tastes anything like it.} Found out this week they actually make other flavors too!! Mocha...peanut butter...cookies n crème...and coconut crème. One of our listeners sent us some this week, and of course I had to sample ALL OF THEM!!!

Three. 

I loved this post by Amy Beth...because it reminded me to fully appreciate the little things I had throughout my childhood that I totally took for granted.   I try so hard to make sure {now} that I fully appreciate everything...life is rich with blessings.

Four. 

Source

If you missed BLT this week, you missed the news that Lynne's husband had a heart attack this past Sunday. He is doing very well and his heart sustained no damage, which is a miracle. She wrote a post about that day and some only-Lynne drama that surrounded her journey to FIND him at a hospital.

Five.

This week I started Beth Moore's Children of the Day study. I LOVE Beth Moore studies. Even the homework. And in general, I'm opposed to any kind of homework. Week number one has already sent me under conviction. What in the world might God have for me? The next eight weeks will tell! 

Six.

It's a death of sorts. I wasn't prepared. I probably should have been since it closed a good number of years ago now. But still. Driving by the freshly demolished Sonic building was...well...I can't talk about it. I can't.  I guess this means they're not planning to reopen in Marion. {sob.}

A Motor Mouth Failure

When I was a toddler, my older sister nicknamed me Motor Mouth.  A fifteen year age difference separated us, and she was the baby of the family until I showed up.  Julie went from a quiet home to one invaded by a screaming baby – and then once the baby stopped screaming, she started talking – in complete, novel-sized paragraphs.  From morning until night…chatter, chatter, chatter.  It was a nickname I deserved.

Unfortunately, those early Tuesdays with God bore strong witness to that nickname.  My second Tuesday of modified obedience found me back at the dining room table, pink pen in hand, announcing to God, “Well, I’m back for Tuesday #2!”  Was I counting down until they could be over?  It seemed that way.  For three rather lengthy paragraphs following that sentence, I launched into an enthusiastic discussion of what I’d learned at Bible Study the night before.  I didn’t stop to ask what I was to pray about, I didn’t ask God if there were things I needed to learn, I didn’t wait quietly…I just started yammering. 

Chatter, chatter, chatter I did…informing God of my needs whenever He saw fit to marry me off (our Bible study topic the night before had centered on intimacy), the merits of what an incredibly easy-going date I would be, should He happen to find someone to date me, and concluding with a halfway heartfelt request to receive the perfect husband and for me to be able to fulfill him in every way once we found each other.

After my whirlwind information session, I clapped the journal shut, put away the pink pen, and drove merrily back to work, grateful to have set God straight on all topics important to my impending marriage to someone in the great wide world. 

The third week, I spent journaling about my struggle with a man I’d fought attraction to for months – he was not available at that time, and I knew my growing infatuation with him had to be curbed, but it seemed each time I saw him, he did something nice that tugged at my heartstrings.  And just minutes into the lunch hour, after blabbering on about my sorrows and woes in this world of forbidden attraction, a friend of mine called.  She was in the area – could she stop by and see me?  I welcomed her presence and discarded my prayers, leaving God behind in a whirlwind of forbidden thoughts and “better offers.” 

And then came a week of vacation…so of course I skipped meeting God in lieu of all my pressing plans…and then I forgot…and then I fell asleep…

And before long, my modified, mostly disobedient lunch dates with God were nonexistent.  I was back to eating out with my friends on Tuesdays.  The prayer chapel had never seen my face.  Whatever words God had for me never got to my ears. 

Several weeks later, my accountability partner asked me if I was still doing Tuesday lunches with God, and I just waved her aside with some excuse as to why it hadn’t worked out. 

Weeks turned into months and I assumed God had chalked the experience up to as much of a failure as I had made it.  I did not figure I would hear of the Tuesday lunch assignment again.  And I credited my failure to make it work as the reason I was still single – still dateless in fact.  Perhaps I was incapable of relationship. 

But I had no idea that God was just beginning a great work. 

Modified Obedience

Earlier this week, I took you on a little trip down memory lane to a time when God called me to fast and pray on Tuesdays...specifically for my future husband. Yesterday I received an email from one of you who read that story and felt led by God to fast right now about something specific. To you, my friend, I say KUDOS for doing a little better than I did eight years ago.

Because...you see...

Five months later – actually a little more than five months later – I sat down with my prayer journal, and with pink pen in hand, I proudly wrote, “Well, I promised You my lunch hours on Tuesdays, so here I am.”  Only because God is God was He still waiting.  Five months?  I’m not sure I would have extended as much grace.

I continued writing as I sat perched at the dining room table.  “Not really sure how to approach this time – it seems weird to come before You without books or the Bible or the TV on in the background or at the very least, a fan on.  But I will remain still before You and wait for You to guide my thoughts.”

Poor God.  I’d already broken two parts of the assignment.  Not only had I stubbornly waited five months to show up, but when I did, I modified the assignment to sit at my dining room table instead of in the prayer chapel as I’d been directed!  I’m surprised He said anything at all to me.  I deserved the silent treatment.  After all, modified obedience deserves modified information. 

So why had I waited so long?  Sadly, I don’t really have a good answer.  And I certainly don’t remember.  If I were to guess, I would say that lunch invitations from my friends crept up…and then perhaps the need to work through my lunch…and then I forgot all about it.  The Ladies Bible study concluded for the holidays the week after my grand revelation during prayer request and praise time, so my pastor’s wife didn’t have a weekly checkpoint time.  And when we reconvened in the spring, we switched topics, and by that time, probably everyone had forgotten my challenge altogether.

But God doesn’t forget things like that.  Promises made on our part are promises He expects to see kept.  So gently, as the weeks and months passed, He’d drop a hint into the thoughts of my mind….So…when are you planning to meet with Me on Tuesdays?

Just as I have no good reason why I waited so long to meet with Him, I also have no good reason why I modified the meeting place.  Something about the chapel intimidated me, and I simply had no desire to go there.  I’d only been inside once or twice, and it was just so…quiet.  And what would people think if they saw me walking toward it?  It would be like going to the altar at church…would people speculate the reason I needed to go?  Praying at home just seemed much safer. 

Unfortunately, God is not always interested in what seems safer.  He’s interested in unabashed obedience.  I imagine it broke His heart that Tuesday in early May when He saw me park at the dining room table with the journal and the pink pen.  He wasn’t impressed that I left the TV off, that I put the music away, that I even opted for the silence of no fan.  As much as I tried to create the atmosphere of the prayer chapel in my dining room – it was not the prayer chapel and I could not fool God into thinking that it was. 

As I sat there that day, fully expecting to receive a sparkling revelation about my future husband, I slipped into the ridiculous...I started thinking of specific names. Men who might be...the one. The daydreams began...carefully encased in directive prayer...just to make it palatable for the occasion. 

And in so spending my hour, I messed with the third portion of the assignment.  I was there to pray for my husband.  Not there to speculate who he might be. Not there to daydream a way in which God might orchestrate a love for me in someone's heart.  And yet I spent the entire hour doing that. 

I kept one eye on the clock and as the hour came to a close, I closed my journal and put the cap on my pen.  I was quite satisfied that the hour had been nothing short of a success and God had been pleased with my obedience – although delayed – in giving Him my Tuesday lunch. 

Perhaps this is a moment when I’m glad I can’t see God’s journal.  The sadness in His heart surely would have shown as He recorded the day from His perspective:  Bekah finally met with Me.  I’ve waited 22 Tuesdays in a pew in the prayer chapel, and she never came.  Today I got a note that she would be there, but she wanted to change the meeting place to her house.  I was so anxious to see her that I gladly met her there – but all she never stopped talking.  All she wanted to do was offer suggestions about how I could fix her up with someone.  I didn’t even get to say a word. 

Wednesdays in the Word: Verse Q

Some of you told me the FIRST WEEK that you couldn't wait for me to hit this letter because you couldn't wait to see what it would be. It may be considered cheating to not find a Q first word of the verse, but this was about the best I could do:

Know what I love about this verse? It's to the point.

I was in the first or second grade Sunday School class at church when our teacher, Barb, decided we all needed to learn how to pray.

Out loud.

Enter my first panic attacks. I had never prayed in front of anyone other than my family, and my class was comprised mostly of giggly girls who may or may not have had much Godly influence once they left the walls of the church. Praying out loud was essentially an invitation to be made fun of...to trip over words...to be thought silly for the method used.

I dreaded my week to pray and always rushed through my prayers as quickly as I could.

As I got older, I prayed out loud in front of others more often...and I became more comfortable with it, but now and then I still find myself in situations where I panic when it's time to pray. I worry that those listening {note: not God. People.} will judge me for how long I take...or don't take...and for how I word things. How eloquent I sound.

And that's why I love this verse. It's my reminder that God doesn't expect polished speeches. This prayer is short and powerful.

Come quickly to help me.

No long explanations. No four syllable words. {Or even three!} Just a heartfelt urgent request for help.

And while people may judge our praying style, Jesus does not. He loves a prayer like this one. It's sent right from our heart to His.

So grateful for the invitation to be pointed and honest in prayer. To be urgent.

And to know I'm heard.

A Year and A Half In...

Yesterday, Ryan and I celebrated a year and a half of marriage. As lovely as the year of firsts was...and it was lovely...it is equally lovely to have some seconds as well. To think back not just to one year...but to even before that.

When writing to you, I try to strike the balance between annoying you with newlywed sappiness and being openly full of praise for this answer to many years' worth of prayers. Today I hope you see these words not as annoying sap, but as genuine praise. Ryan has made the last year and a half so joyful in ways that I'd never known before. I'm grateful for him. I'm grateful to have someone to laugh with {and possibly to be laughed at BY} and someone to just spend the days with. The good ones and the bad ones. For all the frustrations of this season in which we juggle owning two homes and commuting all the time...there are equal joys and days of fun. And I'm grateful.

Yesterday I shared with you a glimpse into a journey God took me on EIGHT YEARS ago. I want to share a bit more of it today and I say it from the other side...now that God has answered this prayer of my heart. Yesterday and its celebration makes the words below all the sweeter. ALL the sweeter.

Somewhere in the middle of the prayer request/praise time that typically concluded the Ladies Bible Study, God took full advantage of an awkwardly quiet moment.  I was dutifully scribbling away on my sheet of loose leaf notebook paper...recording each request and each victory...

...Tap tap tap.  I know that sound.  That would be God.  I mentally answered the tapping as I kept scribbling what the last lady had shared.  Yes, God? 

About this prayer and fasting business.  I have a little assignment for you.  I’d like you to do it. 

I stopped writing mid-scrawl.  Excuse me?  I sincerely hoped that the quiet moment would continue because if someone else launched into a new request, I was going to miss the whole thing. 

I would like you to fast and pray on Tuesdays in the chapel at lunchtime.

Me?  Fast?  Had He not heard what I just said about loving food?  Well apparently He had heard it, but He’d also heard that little part I’d inserted right there at the end about challenging the women to listen to God and see what He wanted and follow through because if they didn’t it was sin.  And He heard the part where I said I’d do that right alongside them.  Why did my own words always come back to get me?

But what would I pray about? 

Your husband. 

Ha!  Was this some sort of joke?  What husband?  I didn’t have a husband.  I didn’t have hope for a husband.  Had God seen the town where I lived?  Had God taken a perusal of my church’s pews lately?  Not one single man unless I wanted to increase my age range to include senior citizens and college students.  Had God noticed the work crowd lately?  No single men there.  Why would I pray about my husband?  I’d come to nearly believe that it was my lot in life to be single until the end of time.  Either the end of time or the time so near the end that all we could do would be race wheelchairs and swap teeth for fun.

I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes.  I know it’s not a nice thing to do ever, especially to God – and especially especially when He’s handing out an assignment.  But the whole thing just seemed so incredulous that I was sure I’d heard Him wrong – or not heard Him at all – maybe this was some weird trick Satan was playing to get my hopes up that a man existed for me. 

Someone was talking – time to rejoin the prayer requests.  I resumed my scribbling, but God’s assignment kept replaying in the back of my mind…fast and pray on Tuesdays in the chapel at lunchtime….fast and pray on Tuesdays in the chapel at lunchtime. 

We concluded our round of prayer requests and praises, and into silent prayer time we went.  My job was to close the prayer time after some time had passed, and while I waited, I gave God a silent agreement.  Okay.  If He wanted me to go to the prayer chapel on Tuesdays and pray away the lunch hour, go to the prayer chapel, I would. 

Knowing myself the way I do, I figured I better tell someone about it before I chickened out altogether.  So as the ladies mixed, mingled, and munched on the remaining snacks after our time together had concluded, I slid over next to my pastor’s wife.  Carefully omitting the reason for the prayer time, I just told her that I’d felt convicted to spend my Tuesdays fasting and praying in the prayer chapel.  She encouraged me to follow God’s leading and I sat back, satisfied that I was about to embark on a great journey ordained by God Himself. It would be GREAT. And esay.

Right.

 

A Peek Back...

Today, Ryan and I cement another milestone in our relationship journey: we celebrate a year and a half of marriage!

A year and a half of adventure and fun...of hard work and frustration...of prayers and tears...but always, always, always, of teamwork and love.

The journey to get to this place has been hard-fought. Oh how I ached to get married. ACHED. And I know that many of you who read here every day are in the middle of that same ache right now. Others of you are aching just as hard for something else.

This past week, Ryan and I made our way to the prayer chapel at IWU and spent some time at the altar, praying over the things that weigh most heavily on our hearts...and as my eyes scanned the room and my hand grasped his, I remembered a time eight years ago - almost exactly - when I spent a series of weeks in this place...praying.

Praying for Ryan. Before I knew he would even be the answer.

Years ago, I wrote about those weeks and haven't shared that story in full...but wondered if it might be okay to do so here over the next little while. Don't worry - I won't give up writing about life in Shafferland, but I'd love to let you peek into the life of a girl desperate to be married...and how God moved for those few weeks. Hope that's okay!

The adventure began 8 1/2 years ago, when I was teaching a Ladies Bible Study group through my church. We met every Monday night here in my home, and that particular season, we were studying prayer. For eleven weeks, I found a facet of prayer to cover while carefully skirting the issue of fasting. Finally, on week twelve, it was time to don the skirt.

Why did I avoid it so long?  Simply put:  I like to eat.  I shared quite openly that I grew up thinking – from what I observed and heard discussed at church – that fasting was all about skipping a meal or a series of meals to pray.  And being the food addict that I am, the idea never really appealed to me.  I admired people that could do it.  I just wasn't one of them. 

A couple of years before I taught the series on prayer, I'd attended a wedding where I sat alone in a row near the back, watching guests arrive.  A very tall, thin young man wandered into my row and greeted me with much enthusiasm.  “Hey!!  Anyone sitting here?”  I stared at him for just a moment before I realized I knew him.  Only...he'd been about forty pounds heavier when I knew him.  I don’t hide shock well most of the time, so he quickly explained that he’d lost some weight as a result of participating in a forty-day fast for some people at his church who were battling cancer. 

There I was, counting down the minutes until the reception so I could get in line for snacks, and he had given up everything for over a month for the sake of people in his church and their health.   I was amazed he even had the strength to sit up straight at the wedding.  And then he added that he worked a full time construction job. I had no idea how he managed it. 

So this was the sort of image I had of fasting.  The Jesus-type fast.  Forty days…the heat…the desert…the lack of chocolate.  That wasn’t me, I decided.  But I also decided that I should at least attempt to teach on the topic before I closed the study on prayer.  Having never participated in a fast, I decided to consult the experts.  I parked next to my bookshelves and pulled out every book on prayer I could find.  I scoured the table of contents in every book for chapters on fasting.  Nothing. 

Finally, near the end of my resources, I found one lone book with a chapter on the subject of my quest.  Wesley Duewel’s book Touch the World Through Prayer had a chapter called “You Can Deepen Your Prayer by Fasting.”  I curled up on the couch, determined to absorb a crash course.   

These words captured me: “Biblical fasting is a form of self-denial for the sake of Jesus and His kingdom.  It is a deliberate abstinence from some or all food for a spiritual purpose.  It demonstrates a deep level of commitment and sacrifice…Fasting in the biblical sense is choosing not to partake of food because your spiritual hunger is so deep, your determination in intercession so intense, or your spiritual warfare so demanding that you have temporarily set aside even fleshly needs to give yourself to prayer and meditation.” 

Fasting is not for the faint of heart.  And it’s not a new diet.  It is not about skipping breakfast once a week so that your stomach pangs remind you to pray for a concern.  It is about real commitment.  Not a commitment to skip a meal so much as a commitment to give up something important to you – to set aside your desire for that thing – and instead turn full, devoted attention to deep, faith-filled, intercessory prayer.

And so I showed up at Bible study that Monday night in late November, armed with quotes from Mr. Duewel’s book, alongside my own grand conclusions.  I ended the evening with these words, spoken while looking each of the ladies straight in the eye:

“God delights in our decision to follow Him and to do anything that gives us the opportunity to draw closer to Him.  What you fast and how often you do it is between you and God.  But I want to challenge you (and I’m taking the challenge alongside you) to seek God and find out what He wants of you in this area.  And then do it.  Because if He gives you directions and you don’t follow them, then it’s definitely sin.  So go…seek God’s heart.  Listen for His prompting.  And then follow and wait for His blessings to pour over you as you obey!”

If only I had known it wouldn't be that simple at all.

The Shafferland Shuffle

* Last Sunday was THE most perfect day. We slept in and went to church...service was wonderful...including communion at the end. We spent the ENTIRE afternoon in the pirogi...eating our grilled lunch and patriotic ice cream sundaes...and taking a nap. We went for dinner at Culvers {for a treat} and took a walk in the evening...it was just a wonderfully perfect day.

* Monday, Ryan had to work and I stayed home. I missed him like crazy while he was gone, but I was very productive with chores around the house. {Redoing my nails WAS included in the list of chores, thankyouverymuch.} When he got home, we went for a run and then grilled hot dogs and potatoes and had little patriotic ice cream sammiches...and took another nap in the hammock. Then I lost him to the Pacers game {speaking of losses...}...a well-deserved break for him since he worked so hard.

* Tuesday was back to work day...back to therapy for Ryan and back to the board for me! I was working at my desk that afternoon when I heard what sounded like a bird chirping LOUDLY. Looked outside - little chipmunk!! He even posed for me! We didn't do much when we got home. Ate dinner in the pirogi, watched the Duggars and - oh yes! America's Got Talent is back!! SO. MANY. LAUGHS!!!

 * Wednesday was a hard day for my heart - just lots weighing in right now - and it was such a sweet surprise when one of my friends surprised me by sending flowers to me at work. I ADORE flower deliveries, so that was a huge smile-maker in my day! It was raining when we got home, so we hunkered down for good talks, the Pacers game, and keeping an eye on Miss Neighborhood Watch. {She imagines herself helpful.}

* Thursday we had a video shoot at work for a quick new video...and I did a little photo shoot in the van while we waited for the next scene! My buddies Jeri and Lynne. :) That afternoon, while I waited on Ryan to get home from mowing the other house, I went for a run and ended up by the prayer chapel...just saying thanks for all the answered prayers. Later that night, we went for a walk and went inside just to pray for a while. I so love that place.

* Friday...y'all...I came down with a cold. Who isn't happy about this? ME!!! It's been going around at work for a few weeks now and I've managed to avoid it and then BOOM. Sick. Boo. I had to answer the phones for Mid-Morning that day as all three of our phone operators were out...so that was a different way to spend the show! I did get a treat of a free iced coffee though! And that night was date night...Applebee's and Lowe's with this handsome man!

* Yesterday was a mix of sickness and work. I was SO OUT OF IT for most of the day, due to taking all the Quils (Day and Ny). I took four naps, but when I was awake...I managed to paint our entire porch, which was peeling badly after a winter filled with much shoveling and scraping. Ryan worked, so when he came home, he planted grass in the areas where our yard had been dug up for the plumbing...and then we went for a walk and for frappes...because you feed a cold, right??